Chapter 6

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Demaris does not lower his guard and keeps his broken knife ready, the jagged remains of the knife's blade could still at least draw blood, but he didn't dare use another martial skill or his arm would take the backlash. If they are in fact Demons and fallen angels, they are very old and renowned beings that were only myths in his past life, known through the christian faiths present in this world. Should they be similar here, he cannot relax for a single moment if he wants to save the teenage boy.

"My name is Rias Gremory," The devil introduces herself to Demaris, "Who might you be? No ordinary kid would be out at this hour looking as you do, with a sword, pointed at a beautiful girl like me."

Demaris scoffs, "Your appearance may have human beauty, but there is no humanity in you."

Rias glances at the unconscious and dying boy and then sighs a reply, "Issei called me here using a pamphlet bearing the Gremory crest. I can help him."

Before Demaris can ask anything else, Rias urgently adds, "But we need to act quickly if you want to save him, so are you going to fight me and let him die, or shall we end this night peacefully?"

Demaris is skeptical but, given the circumstances, allows Rias to intervene while he watches her closely, making sure that she doesn't intend to hurt the already injured Issei. Rias kneels next to Issei, her hands emitting a soft, warm glow as she begins to work her magic. She places one, then two, until she places eight chess pieces on Issei's chest.

"Here my command, Rise and be my servant and all your dreams will come true," Rias stands and looks over Issei.

Demaris watches with morbid fascination as eight small, glowing red pawn pieces merge with Issei. He reacts swiftly and puts the broken knife at Rias's throat.

Rias speaks up and assures Demaris, "Issei is going to be fine."

The wound in Issei's stomach has indeed vanished.

Demaris hesitates, unsure whether or not to trust her, but he acknowledges that she saved a life while Raynare almost took one. "Seems more like you wanted a servant," Demaris's tone is scathing.

Rias agrees, "Yes and it also saved his life."

"Is it reversible?" Demaris moves the blade closer to her neck.

"No, but he will be treated like family," Rias calmly defends herself, "My family has always cherished members of our peerage."

The jagged metal is removed from her throat. Demaris isn't fully convinced of this devil's innocence, but he can now sense demonic miasma emanating from Issei.

"So who are you?" Rias is now standing up and looking at Demaris.

Demaris lies, "John Smith."

"I see that you would rather lie than tell me, so let's just meet up tomorrow and chat about events this evening," Rias seems to have activated some kind of magic, a red magic circle with the same crest on the pamphlet expands under Issei and Rias.

Demaris frowns, he wasn't that easy to read, was he? Or was a being known for lying just better at it? He will need to refresh his skills in political tact.

Rias teleports away in a flash of light and leaves behind a pamphlet with her crest on it.

"I don't think this world is as simple as it seems," Demaris picks up the pamphlet while grumbling.

He studies the enchanted piece of paper that will summon a member of the Gremory family, or their peerage.

Demaris thinks that maybe he should have killed her anyway, instead he shakes his head.

Before the night is over, Demaris still wants to tackle one more dungeon and get stronger. Now that he knows mythological beings are real in this new life, he needs to be prepared in case a vampire or werewolf shows up, let alone a dark wizard flinging around instant death. His regular iron weapons might be useless against them. Perhaps a few years at Ilvermorny will bring him up to speed in this world.

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Demaris decided to head to the far end of Central Park to explore the next dungeon – the Iron Bark Pits. Approaching the entrance, he saw a rotting tree stump with a hole at the bottom, just big enough for him to fit through.

Crouching down and squeezing through the hole, Demaris finds himself climbing out the other side of the rotting stump. Before him, a desolate landscape is revealed with burnt tree stumps, shards of bark made from iron, and dozens of pits scattered across the ground.

Curious, Demaris peered into one of the pits, only to discover the bones of various dead organisms: horse bones, human bones, and humanoid bones with sharpened teeth in their skulls in place of human teeth. A chill ran down his spine as he realized what he had just seen.

Memories he would rather leave forgotten flash through Demaris's mind. Countless battles against demons in the Third World War. The vast swaths of land rendered desolate, the fathers and mothers who left to fight, never to return.

Sweat beads up and falls from Demaris's pores, and he finds himself hyperventilating. He cannot go through that again. He can fake it to make it, but the things he has seen would make any warrior crumble to the floor.

Glancing around the environment, Demaris sees flashes of long-dead friends, mangled and lifeless. Civilians falling to endless swaths of demons.

The ground embraces Demaris as he falls to his knees. Stomach bile mixes with the sparkling dirt as he retches out his stomach contents. He might have passed out, but he was determined to stay conscious in this foreign environment.

in the corner of his eye, bones begin to tremble. They roll across the ground and slowly form into undead beings, skeletons.

Like many times in the past, Demaris forces himself to calm down with controlled breathing. He imagines his wife and happy memories. Slowly his breathing returns to normal. This isn't the battlefield he knows, but he will ensure this kind of thing will never happen in his new life.

Rattle! Rattle!

Demaris knows that he has little time to waste, so he focuses his attention on completing the objectives and learning more about this strange new world he has entered. He can't change the past, but he will put these poor spirits to rest.

That will be difficult however without a weapon. The undead finish forming into complete skeletons, their bones clicking and clattering as they take shape. Demaris wipes the bile from his lips and quickly retreats.

At a safe distance, he draws a magic circle in the sand and transmutes himself with three swords. The grains of iron in the sandy soil float and liquify before forming into short sword copies.

With his new weapons in hand, Deamris walks back to the skeletons.

The first few skeletons lurch towards him, their movements jerky and unnatural. Demaris braces himself and swings his sword, striking with practiced precision. The force of his blow sends bones flying, and the skeletons crumble to the ground.

As the remains of the defeated enemies scatter, Demaris collects the iron bark pieces they drop, pieces stuck to their bones. They feel cold and heavy in his hand, a stark reminder of the lifeless beings they belonged to just moments ago.

With a deep breath, Demaris continues his journey through the desolate battlefield. Soon, he spots another group of thirty skeletons in the distance. This time, they are a mix of warrior, orc, and mage skeletons, led by an imposing undead commander. Its hollow eyes seem to bore into Demaris's soul, promising a grueling battle ahead.

Gritting his teeth, Demaris grips his sword and prepares to face the new challenge. He will need to be careful, 1 versus many is a hard-fought battle. Swarming tactics can leave even the most talented fighters a bloody mess where they can't even retaliate.

The undead commander raises its bony arm, ordering its group forward without uttering a single word. The silence is chilling as if the very air itself is holding its breath in anticipation. The group of skeletons advances, their movements synchronized and unnervingly coordinated.

Demaris quickly formulates a plan, utilizing the numerous pits that scar the battlefield to maintain crowd control. He leads the undead towards the pits, calculating his steps with each swing of his sword. As the enemies follow, some of them lose their footing and tumble into the pits, their bones clattering against the sides as they fall.

The battle is far from easy, and Demaris finds himself constantly on the defense. He ducks and weaves, narrowly dodging the vicious swipes of the warrior skeletons and the brutal hammer blows of the orc skeletons. Every so often, a searing bolt of fire magic shoots past him, leaving the stench of singed air in its wake. The mage skeletons are relentless, their empty eye sockets glowing with an eerie light as they conjure their spells.

Demaris's breath comes in ragged gasps, his muscles screaming in protest as the fight drags on. Finally, he spots an opening and lunges at the undead commander, his sword slicing through the air with deadly precision. The blade cleaves through the commander's ribcage, shattering its spine and sending it crumbling to the ground.

As the lifeless bones of the commander scatter across the battlefield, the remaining undead begin to falter, their movements becoming erratic and disjointed. Demaris presses his advantage, cutting through their ranks with renewed determination.

After several minutes the last skeleton has its bones scattered by Demaris's iron sword. He quickly picks up all the iron bark pieces and moves on to find more groups of skeletons.

He finds two more groups of skeletons and fights them with the same pit strategy as the first group.

In the distance, a large eight-foot skeleton can be seen climbing out of a pit. Demaris surmises that this large skeleton must be the boss of this dungeon. He decides to call the large skeleton The Undead King, whose forces have two commanders, and dozens of warrior, orc, and mage skeletons in front of them.

Demaris strides towards the group of skeletons protecting the Undead King and his two remaining commanders, his eyes focused on the formidable opponents that await him.

Pausing for a moment, Demaris checks his blade and finds it is close to being broken and unusable. The edge is chipped and the metal is splintered, a testament to the ferocity of the previous battles. He knows that it won't hold up for much longer, so he will use a martial skill then switch to another blade in his pocket dimension.